


Slippery Slope

by Sangerin



Category: Mona Lisa Smile (2003)
Genre: Autumn, F/F, F/M, Gen, Wellesley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-21
Updated: 2013-01-21
Packaged: 2017-11-26 08:28:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/648586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sangerin/pseuds/Sangerin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Giselle had a tendency to do whatever mad thing came into her head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slippery Slope

By halfway through freshman year Connie, Giselle, Betty and Joan were inseparable. Connie and Joan were the glue that held the group together: Connie the peacemaker and Joan the born leader softened Giselle’s wildness and Betty’s hard edges. Connie had a tendency to gush, just as Giselle had a tendency to do whatever mad thing came into her head. Betty would watch the other two girls in disbelief whenever they broke into passionate soliloquies or wildness. Joan would plead with them to act their age, but none of it ever made any difference.

So when, on a Sunday afternoon in their Sophomore year, Connie began to rhapsodise about the colour of the leaves and the way they crunched beneath the girls’ feet as they walked back to their rooms from Chapel, their reactions were already fixed. Joan smiled indulgently, Betty rolled her eyes, and Giselle hugged Connie tight. Then Giselle pulled Connie down among the leaves and began to roll with her down the hill.

‘Will you never grow up?’ Betty called after them.

Giselle and Connie shrieked, and eventually Connie let go of Giselle, and sat up. There were leaves through her hair, and her cheeks were rosy. She laughed, watching as Giselle kept rolling towards the lake. ‘Don’t fall in!’ she called after her roommate. 

Joan and Betty walked sedately down the hill. Reaching Connie, Joan held out a hand, and Connie took it, her smile dimpling her cheeks. ‘She’s crazy, but we love her, right?’ said Connie.

Joan reached over to pluck a few loose leaves from Connie’s hair. ‘Of course. Life wouldn’t be the same without her.’

‘Aren’t you going to come help me up?’ called Giselle. She’d come to a stop before she reached the path bordering the lake. She was covered in leaves and twigs, and her hair was completely dishevelled.

‘Allow me,’ said a male voice. Giselle looked up. A man - dark haired, dark eyed, and undeniably handsome – held out his hand. Giselle took it, and let him help her up. 

‘I’d heard about the hoop-rolling,’ he said. ‘I didn’t know that undergraduate-rolling was also a common sport.’

Connie rushed up alongside Giselle. ‘Oh, it’s not common,’ she said. ‘It’s just Giselle.’ Connie picked a few leaves away from Giselle’s hair and her skirts, but Giselle made no move herself. Instead, she held out her hand. ‘Giselle Levy,’ she said.

‘William Dunbar.’

‘You’re here to visit your girlfriend?’ Giselle asked, her voice sugary-sweet. Connie stopped her efforts with Giselle’s skirt.

‘No,’ said Dunbar. ‘I’m the new Italian professor.’

‘Fancy that,’ replied Giselle.

‘I must be off,’ said Dunbar. ‘Ladies.’

Joan and Betty joined them. ‘Giselle Levy, will you never grow up?’ said Betty, exasperated.

Giselle’s gaze followed the new Italian professor as he walked away. ‘Maybe it won’t be so bad after all,’ she said softly.


End file.
